


The Importance of a Balanced Diet

by aroseofstone (Adams1422)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4099054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adams1422/pseuds/aroseofstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor learns exactly why a balanced diet is even more important now that he’s part human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Importance of a Balanced Diet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tenscupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenscupcake/gifts).



> A huge, HUGE thank you to tenscupcake over on tumblr! This fic would not exist without her.

The Doctor flips his laptop closed and leaps off the couch, practically sprinting for the kitchen. He rips the refrigerator door open. Once that proves itself useless, he slams the door and spins around on his heel. His eyes flash around the room from cabinet to cabinet, mentally going through what he knows belongs in each of them. 

“Aha!” he exclaims, running over to the leftmost one and opening it. His shoulders slump when he takes inventory of everything inside, finding fruit of any sort. 

“Why is there no bloody fruit at all in this house?” he growls at the empty kitchen, closing the door to the disappointing cabinet. He walks over to the table, plopping down on one of the stools and resting his chin against his fist. As he contemplates their lack of fruit, he is assaulted again by a memory from last night. 

_“You know,” Rose says snuggling against his bare chest, “I’ve noticed something.”_

_He gives her a lazy smile, tracing circles on the warm skin of her back._

_“What’s that, love?” he asks, kissing her forehead._

_“You taste different,” she says, eyes drifting closed._

_“I_ taste _different?” he asks with an incredulous giggle. What was this beautiful human on about?_

_“Yeah,” she says, giggling along with him, fingers flexing against his chest. “Your… you know. It tastes different. Than his, I mean. Yours tastes a bit more like a human’s, I think.”_

_Suddenly, the Doctor is not nearly as relaxed as he had been only moments ago. Oh no, this is not good. Not good at all. He has to resist the urge to get out of bed right now and search for a solution to this problem._

_“You mean… It tastes bad?” he asks, hesitant. Her response is a tiny snore, letting him know that she has finally drifted off to sleep._

_Is this her way of telling him that it’s bad? That she doesn’t like it anymore? She never complained about it when he was a Time Lord. She’d never mentioned it, really. If she weren’t sleeping on top of him right now, he’d grab his phone and start researching solutions immediately. As it were, he’ll have to wait until morning when she has gone to work (since he has the day off tomorrow, anyway). For now, he’d be better off just getting to sleep. In the light of the morning sun, surely this would seem like a silly little issue._

_It takes him hours to fall asleep._

_The morning sun is not as kind as he’d hoped._

A little bit of research this morning taught him that a regular diet of fruit could help make the taste a bit sweeter. When he thought back on his diet since he got this shiny new body, he realized that it has been sorely lacking in fruits. According to his reading today, Rose telling him that he tasted like a human was not complimentary at all. He shudders to think what he has been putting his beautiful human through simply because he isn’t eating enough pineapple. 

Unfortunately, they don’t have a single piece of bloody fruit in this whole household. 

The Doctor slips his phone out of his pocket, and begins typing a message. 

_Did u know we don’t have any fruit in our house?! It isn’t healthy, Rose. I’m going to the store right now to fix this problem. Do u need anything while I’m there?_ –D

He drums his fingertips on the tabletop as he waits for a reply. Though Rose is working, he knows it should only take a few moments for her to see his text and answer him. Soon enough, his phone buzzes. 

_Yeah could you pick up some some of those Twizzlers that i like? Ta love_ –R 

He grins down at his phone, typing a quick affirmative message and sliding it back in his pocket. The Doctor stands up from the stool, heading out the door. When it swings shut behind him, though, he immediately turns around and goes right back inside. Sighing at himself, he snatches his keys and wallet off of the coffee table. Keys firmly in hand (and wallet securely in his pocket), he leaves the house again. 

RTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRT

The Doctor is sitting at the table, drinking pineapple juice when he hears the front door open.

“Doctor! You here?” Rose calls. He hears the clatter of her keys against the ceramic key bowl (that he always forgets to use) next to the door.

“In here,” he answers, downing the rest of the juice and running the glass to the tap. 

“There you are,” Rose says warmly as she walks into the kitchen and catches sight of him at the sink. They meet each other in the middle, the Doctor enveloping Rose in his arms.

“God, it’s weird to be at work without you. Feels like ages since I’ve seen you,” she says, breathing him in. He presses a kiss to her hair before resting his cheek against the top of her head.

“I know. I missed you terribly today,” he says. He knows it’s been less than a day without her, but his chest still aches. Even after being reunited for as long as they have, every moment apart from her feels like someone is squeezing his (single) heart in their fist. He isn’t sure he’ll ever shake the fear that she’ll be taken from him for good one day. 

She holds him tighter; he’s sure she knows exactly what he’s thinking. He feels her take a deep breath before stepping back from him.

“So, you did a little shopping today, did you?” she asks with a grin, stepping around him and skipping to the fridge to peek inside. 

“Mhmm,” he says as he steps behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder to peer in with her. 

“Blimey! Why didn’t you get some fruit, love?” she teases, taking in the absolute piles of pineapple and apples and strawberries. Surely he bought enough pineapple juice to last a lifetime. Their fridge was fit to burst. 

“Well,” he says, sniffing, “I wanted to make sure there was enough.” 

“Mission accomplished, I’d say,” she says with a laugh.

“Molto bene,” he whispers, pressing his lips against her neck. He nips his way down her neck, smirking when he feels her entire body shudder against him. 

“Bedroom?” she breathes, clenching her bottom lip between her teeth.

The Doctor hums his assent against her skin. He steps back from her, sliding his hands across her hips (and his left one across her bum before reaching to lace their fingers together). They bank around the couch as they rush to the stairs, giggling the whole way. They stumble their way upstairs, never letting their hands come apart. Once they make it to their bedroom, Rose runs her hands up the Doctor’s chest, sliding his t-shirt up at the same time. He shivers as her nails score against his warm skin, leaving light marks that disappear as soon as her nails leave his chest. 

He helps her lift his shirt completely over his head, tossing it off somewhere to be worried about much later. Next she moves to his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping without finesse, dropping them to the floor. He kicks them in the same general direction of his shirt. 

“Wait,” he gasps when she reaches for his pants, “your turn.” 

“I like the way you think,” she mutters, reaching for her ID, unclipping it and throwing it on her bedside table. It wouldn’t do to lose that, he thinks, remembering that she was on her fourth one already. They had made a promise to Pete to be much more careful with them this time. In the time he had wasted thinking about his father-in-law, Rose had stripped down to her knickers and bra. 

“I missed you like crazy today,” she whispers. Instead of meeting his eye, she licks her favorite spot on his neck. (A freckle that he himself hadn’t even noticed until she told him how much she loved it.) He knows why she can’t look at him. She still feels the same crippling fear that he does every time they’re separated. They never say it out loud, but they both know it’s there. 

She begins sliding down his body, making her intentions very clear.

 _Oh. Oh no._ His research this morning made it very clear that it would take a few days for all the fruit to… _kick in._

He catches her hands, pulling her back up to her full height, stammering for a moment before he collects his thoughts. 

“I missed you, too,” he recovers, turning them around to push her down on the bed, praying she doesn’t notice the flush he can feel creeping into his cheeks. He kneels over her before she has a chance to process his distraction.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this to you all day,” he whispers, hot breath brushing against her stomach. His fingers hook in the waistband of her knickers, tugging them down as he lowers his head.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to –” she cuts herself off with a long, loud moan, already lost in the dance of his tongue against her soaking center. 

RTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRT

The Doctor has been acting… strangely lately. Well, even more strangely than usual (which is quite a lot already, if Rose is honest). 

First there was the shopping trip he took a couple of weeks ago. She was positive he had cleared out the fruit section of Tesco that day. Later that night he had (for the first time ever, that Rose could remember) turned down one of his very favorite activities in the whole world.

Rose couldn’t help but recall a few days later, when the Doctor had walked into the kitchen to find her finishing a glass of pineapple juice. 

_“Morning, love,” he says, voice still raspy from sleep._

_“Hello,” she says with a grin, finishing her glass of juice and setting it down on the table in front of her._

_“Sleep well?” she asks, licking her lips. He’s still shirtless and in his pajama pants, hair absolute chaos. A vision, if you ask her. Her eyes land on his face again to see it frozen in a state of panic._

_“Doctor? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” she asks. She rushes over to him, reaching up to cup his face, heart pounding._

_“Was that my juice?” he asks, finally seeming to snap out of it a little._

_“What?” she asks, confused._

_“My pineapple juice. Was that the last of my pineapple juice?”_

_“Oh… Yeah. Is that all that’s wrong?” she laughs, stepping back._

_“I’m sorry, I’ll pick up some more when I go to the store, yeah? I’ve probably got to go tomorrow anyway,” she continues._

_“No, I can’t wait that long. I have to drink it with breakfast,” he says, spinning around on his heel and rushing upstairs, his bare feet thudding against the carpet._

_“Wha – Doctor? What the hell is going on?” she asks the empty room, staring at the spot the Doctor had occupied just a second ago._

_She washes up the dishes as she waits for the Doctor to come back down the stairs, hopefully with his head on right this time around._

_In a couple of minutes, he’s jogging down, completely dressed for the day. He grabs his keys and pockets them, heading for the door._

_“Where are you going?!” Rose asks._

_“To the store,” he says, confused, “I have to get more juice.”_

_“Are you alright?” she asks more gently, coming around to look at him properly._

_“I’m fine, sorry if I frightened you,” he says smoothly, pressing a quick kiss to her temple, “It’s just – breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Rose Tyler! Got to start the day off right, don’t we?”_

_With that and a quick, disarming smile, he was out the door._

_It was odd, sure. It was, however, very far from the oddest thing he’d ever done._ He must have really gotten into his breakfast routine, _Rose thinks, deciding to let it slide for now._

Then there was just last night, when Rose made one of their favorite meals… 

_It’s her night to cook dinner, and she had decided to make beef stew, one of Jackie’s best recipes that she’d passed down to her daughter. Even the Doctor had never been able to say one bad word against it, despite his fondness for poking fun at Jackie._

_Rose fishes her phone out of her pocket to send the Doctor a quick text letting him know dinner’s ready. Even with his heightened hearing, she knows he wouldn’t have been able to hear her from the attic where he’s looking after the baby TARDIS._

_Soon enough, his familiar footsteps are thumping down the stairs. He’s whistling some merry little tune that she recognizes from a planet they once visited a lifetime ago._

_“How’s she doing?” she asks, dishing up her own bowl of stew._

_“Brilliant! She’s growing beautifully, Rose,” he says with a fond smile, “before we know it, she’ll be ready for her first test trip! She’s really starting to get the hang of disguising herself.”_

_He cuts off, taking a deep breath in through his nose, releasing with a low moan._

_“Something smells amazing,” he says._

_“Mum’s beef stew,” Rose says. She resists the temptation to dive right in, knowing it would scald her tongue and ruin the rest of the meal off the bat. She glances up at him. He’s gone a bit green around the gills suddenly, taking a step back from the pot of stew like it might jump up and attack him._

_“Y’know what? I’m not actually all that hungry, now that I think about it. I’ll just have a peach for now,” he says, swallowing hard. He snatches a peach and takes a seat across from her, ripping in to the peach’s ripe flesh with those perfect teeth of his._

_“Are… Are you sure?” she asks, slightly offended that he wasn’t eating. His face softens when he detects the hurt in her voice._

_“I’ll have a great big bowl later,” he says, “I just had a rather large stash of candy upstairs and I’m afraid I ruined my dinner. Still not quite used to this human-ish physiology I’ve got going here. Never once ruined my appetite when I was a full Time Lord.”_

_Truth be told, Rose has never seen him ruin his appetite since the metacrisis, but her mum is always warning him that it will catch up with him. Maybe it was finally starting to._

_“Well, it’s very good,” she says with a playful grin. “You’re missing out.”_

_“I’m sure you’re right,” he says, chuckling._

_When they finish their meal (well, when Rose finishes her meal a while after he’d finished his peach), he invites her back up to the attic to help him encourage the TARDIS a bit more._

There was also the small incident in the grocery store, in which he visibly shuddered when she tried to pick up some asparagus. Rose knows this is more than just a couple of alien quirks; she just isn’t sure exactly what it _actually_ is. 

RTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRT

The panic in his voice when he finds out they’re out of peaches is what finally does it. 

Alright, you alien loon, what is going on with you these days?” 

His face contorts from panic to confusion at her question. 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, clearly at a loss.

“You and your fruit! You’ve eaten enough of it the last two weeks that I’m afraid if I squeeze you too hard, you’ll leak fruit punch!”

“I… don’t know what you mean,” he says, though his face tells a different story. He shoves his hands in his pockets to hide their fidgeting from her, and a flush is spreading up his neck and ears with every passing second. 

“Come off it, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” she says. She isn’t letting him brush this one under the rug. It’s starting to disrupt their daily lives, for God’s sake! 

He sighs, shoulders slumping. 

“A couple of weeks ago… Just before we fell asleep… You told me I taste different. From him. That I taste more human. And then you fell asleep before you could tell me if that was a good thing or not… So I did some research and discovered that it was, in fact, a _terrible_ thing. So I… decided to fix it. With fruits.” 

His eyes haven’t met hers since he started explaining, but the blush has grown from his neck and ears to cover his cheeks as well.

“Oh, Doctor,” she whispers, knowing exactly what it was about her statement that had driven him so mad. She wishes she’d never compared him to the full Time Lord Doctor; she knows how it makes him feel. Lesser. He still believes sometimes that she got stuck with him here, this _almost Doctor._ An impostor. Of course, she has never thought that for a second, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying. He’s her Doctor just as much as the Doctor in her original universe is. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have compared you to him that way. I wish you’d said something earlier, love,” she says, coming closer to him hesitantly. 

His brow furrows, eyes finally lifting to meet her gaze. Recognition dawns in his eyes after a moment.

“ _Oh_ ,” he says, “well, yes, that did bother me for a while. But I do have to accept the fact that my physiology is different from his. There are bound to be little differences like this between us… I was mostly worried with, well, _you_.”

“Me?” she asks with a surprised laugh. 

“With you tasting that… because of my diet. I read that fruit could make it sweeter and more pleasant. I just wanted to make it better for you. But it has to be a regular diet of fruit. Red meat and dairy and _asparagus_ are all very, very bad.” 

“Wait, so the day all this started, when I got home from work I tried to… you know… and you wouldn’t let me because –” 

“It takes a couple of days to start working, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you tasting that bloody _awful_ taste one more time,” he says, cupping her face. He runs his finger over her bottom lip, licking his own lips at the thought of her mouth around him. She can see it in his eyes – the bone-deep hunger he has for her. He hasn’t felt her lips and tongue on him since he started this silly fruit obsession, too nervous about his taste to let her near him again, she guesses.

“Well… it’s been more than a few days now, hasn’t it?” she asks with a naughty glint in her eye. 

“Oh yes,” he says.

“Bedroom?”

“Couch is closer,” she says, lifting an eyebrow.

“I like the way you think, Rose Tyler.”

RTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRT

Rose pushes the Doctor down on the couch with an evil glint in her eye. She drops to her knees and palms him through his trousers. He’s already getting hard, how could he not be? There is hardly anything in the entire word that’s better than Rose’s mouth (though her tight, wet heat edged it out for the number one spot). 

She unzips and unbuttons his trousers, patting his hip to tell him to lift up. He does, and she drags his trousers and pants down his thighs in one go. 

“I’m very glad we don’t have a leather couch,” he says with (what Rose would likely call) a giggle. 

“You git,” she says, taking his length in hand. She runs her circles her thumb around the tip, drawing a shiver out of him. She licks her lips, eyes on his cock. Suddenly, her gaze burning with arousal, locks onto his.

“You know,” she says, her breath whispering against his hot flesh, “I find everything about you sexy; you drive me mad. I love every bit of you: your hair, your dead gorgeous face, that damn freckle on your perfect neck, your smell, even your taste.” 

She licks the tip of his length achingly slow, moaning. 

“It’s unique. Not quite human, not quite Time Lord. Something completely new. You are something completely new. And I love you so much,” she takes his cock in her mouth as deep as she can, her hand covering the base. 

He cries out in a dead language, one he only ever speaks when he’s like this, with her. His hands clench convulsively near his thighs. He can’t help the small thrust his hips give, sending himself impossibly deeper inside her mouth. Her free hand pins his hips down, thumb stroking. He can feel her smile around him. He has never wanted anyone like he wants Rose Tyler. 

She releases him, right hand pumping him in consolation of the loss.

“I would love you no matter what, Doctor.”

Her head dips down again, taking him inside. He can’t hold his hands still any longer. They come up on their own to lace his fingers through her hair. Rose groans against his cock when he lets his fingers comb through.

“Fuck,” he hisses, fingers tightening in her hair. She lets him guide her motions for a moment, letting him quicken her pace. Her tongue traces the vein on the underside of his length.

“God, Rose, I’m getting close already,” he whimpers. His entire body is taut. It feels like it’s been ages since she did this.

She hollows out her cheeks, sucking with enough pressure that his eyes roll back and he calls her name out again. Her head bobs faster as she takes control back from him. The nails on her left hand dig into his hip, leaving tiny crescent marks on his skin. His entire body jerks at the pleasure that’s _nearly_ pain. 

Suddenly, her mouth leaves him. He whines, desperate. 

“God, Doctor. I love doing this for you. I love the way you feel against my tongue. I love the way you taste. I’m so wet.” He sees her slip her hand down and hears her whimper. He knows she’s circling her clit with her fingertips right here in front of him.  
“Come for me, Doctor.”

He gasps, lightheaded and impossibly aroused by her words. She dives back down, redoubling her efforts, sucking and pumping and humming and it’s too much.

“Rose,” he cries, coming hard against her tongue. His vision blurs as he pulses for her. He shudders while the aftershocks crash through his body. When he finally finishes, he takes a deep breath, exhaling in a rush.

He whispers her name again, looking down at her in awe. She gives him a smile, standing up. 

“Rough on the knees, that,” she says with a laugh, stretching. 

“Come here,” he rasps. When she’s close enough, he grabs the back of her neck, crushing their lips together in a bruising kiss. 

“I’m going to make you see stars, Rose,” the Doctor says, still gasping for air.

“Once I catch my breath, that is,” he says, grinning. 

“You think you have another round in you after that?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“Oh yes,” he says, “I may not be a full Time Lord anymore, but my stamina is still a fair bit better than human males, if you recall.” 

“Oh, I recall,” she assures him, nipping his bottom lip. 

It may take a moment, but he’ll be ready to go again very soon. They certainly have enough time to make it up to their ridiculously comfortable bed, though.

RTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRT

They stop off for a quick drink of water before rushing upstairs to their bedroom.

“Bed. Now,” he growls, already unbuttoning his oxford and stripping it off, his trousers following soon after. 

“Shall I strip first?” she teases. Without waiting for his answer, she does, getting down to her bra and knickers in a flash. She flounces down on the bed with a laugh. He grins, crawling on top of her and leaning down to press a kiss against her lips. His tongue traces her bottom lip and she grants him access immediately, opening her mouth. A soft, contented sigh escapes her when his tongue dips in to caress hers. He can taste himself on her. 

“It is a bit better, isn’t it?” he asks when he pulls back a centimeter. She laughs again.

“Sweeter,” she agrees, craning her neck up to capture his lips again. He smiles against her lips just as she pulls back with a soft noise.

“Though I thought you tasted just fine before. Maybe we can find a nice balance for fruit in our diet, yeah?” she says, caressing his face. He nods, willing to agree to pretty much any request that Rose Tyler asks of him.

“Now, about those stars you promised me,” she says, thrusting her hips up against him suggestively. 

Fuck. She wasn’t lying earlier. She’s soaking; he can feel it through her knickers. 

“Right yes,” he slides his hands underneath her to unclip her bra. She arches up to help him.

“Dunno why you even kept these on,” he grumbles, struggling for a second before he gets it undone. He tosses the bra over his shoulder and slides down her body to get rid of the knickers too.

“I like this set,” he says distractedly, rubbing his thumb against the bright pink material before he slides them down her beautiful thighs and throws them as well. 

“Me too,” she says. He spreads her lips with two fingers, dipping his head down to flick his tongue against her clit. 

“God,” she gasps, clearly not anticipating his actions. He blows lightly against her burning skin, making her shiver for him. 

“Doctor, get up here and get inside me,” she demands, jerking her hips. He slips a finger inside her heat, pumping.

“I want to make sure you’re ready,” he says, licking her clit again.

“God, fuck, I’m ready,” she says, panting for breath already. Going down on him always put her right on the knife’s edge. Knowing that he is the one who does this to her does the same to him. He breathes in her scent one last time before sliding his finger out and popping it in his mouth, sucking it clean. 

“I’m gonna go insane,” she growls. He gives her a filthy grin, coming back  
up to eye level. 

“I love you,” he whispers when he meets her eyes. Sometimes it just washes over him, his adoration for her. 

“Love you,” she says, unable to keep her body from thrusting against him even in this suddenly tender moment. He laughs, kissing her. 

“Doctor, please,” she begs, writhing beneath him. 

He can’t hold out much longer, himself. He grabs his length, stroking a couple of times. A bead of liquid forms on the tip and he spreads it with his thumb, a groan rumbling in his throat. He lines his cock up with her center, dipping the head in and stopping, teasing. He pulls out almost immediately, running the tip up along her clit. Rose growls, fingers tugging his hair roughly. He gasps, lining up again to thrust inside her to the hilt. When he’s buried inside her, he pauses, giving them both a moment to adjust. Rose’s walls flutter around him, practically begging him to come inside her already. He takes a few deep breaths in through his nose. 

Rose uses her leverage to pull his head down, sealing their lips together in a breathless kiss. 

“Move,” she begs. He pulls out slowly, still trying to keep himself under control. 

“Doctor, please.” 

He snaps, hips thrusting against hers, burying himself inside her again. Control all but lost, he sets up a quick pace, chasing release for the both of them as quickly as he can.

“Rose, touch yourself,” he says. One of his hands comes up to grip the headboard, using it as leverage to thrust harder and faster, hitting her in just the right spot every single time. She complies, rubbing circles against her sensitive clit in time with his hips. 

He stops moving inside her suddenly, looking down in her eyes. He can see that she knows exactly what he’s about to do. He flips them, managing to put Rose on top without even slipping out of her.

“Yes, fuck,” Rose moans when she slides even further down his length. He gasps her name. This time it’s him begging her to move. She does, lifting up and dropping down on him. He reaches one hand up to rub her nipple, the other going down to her clit. He rubs tight little circles on it as she rides him. She twists her hips on every thrust down. 

“Rose, come for me, please.”

She clenches around him, pulling him along with her in her release. He comes with her, left hand abandoning her breast to grind her hips down against him harder. 

She collapses against his chest in a sweaty, sated heap. 

“Wow,” she breathes, kissing his chest. He can’t help but agree. It’s been a while since they’ve gone at each other like that. He had almost forgotten how amazing she makes him feel. Well, not really. He can never forget that. But it’s still nice to be reminded. 

“You fulfilled your promise, alright,” she says. 

“Don’t I always?” he says with a cheeky grin. She nips his chest for his cheek, unable to deny it. 

He cuddles her closer, pressing a kiss against her sweaty hair. 

“I think we could both use a shower,” he says, making no move to get up.

“After a little kip, yeah.”

“If this is what happens every time I go a little mad over fruit, I hope you don’t ever expect me to do anything else.”

Her laughter is the last thing he hears as he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
